Fat Bottom Girl Said What

When my ass talks, people listen.

Archive for the tag “touch”

Parchment

how long until my skin

becomes paper

thin as the crepe de chine

abandoned in the back of your closet

full of moth holes

forgotten after Senior Prom ’65

where once there was buoyancy

and the ability to reproduce

now the organism

withers and dies

starving

void of the nourishment

of human touch

if only you could

wrap it up in tissue

and send it to me special delivery

the words

‘handle with care’

stamped upon my battered flesh (instead of the box it arrives in)

and whispered in my brain

ad nauseam

like a broken record

daring you to heal

what was long since destroyed

by angry hands

 

 

 

 

 

Skin Hunger

Like a blind person
I want to explore every inch of your skin
and commit it to memory
I want to taste your tattoos with my tongue
and bury my nose in your neck
so I can inhale the scent of you
and feel the goosebumps my lips create
as I brush them down your back
fingertips feather light
following the trail my lips make
grazing your ass with my hands
stopping only to grip your thighs
and feel the cord of muscle within
completing my journey
by pressing my nakedness
against yours
absorbing the rhythms of your body
through osmosis
so I can carry the song of you with me
wherever I go

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